Afrien
by Eykiel
Summary: Freud found that Afrien, in his human form, was stunning, and couldn't stop drinking in the sight. Afrien noticed, but there was no place for embarrassment, not in the kingly air surrounding him. 'Do you not want me, my Freud?...' Afrien smiled, 'I will make you love to make love to me.' — (Oneshot, smut, Afrien/Freud/Phantom) MAJOR STYLE EDIT STARTING JUNE 20
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!**

**So this is another smut fic... a tribute for Noctfelicite and the beautiful (_read: sexy_) drawing that inspired this piece. **

**This four-part story is meant to be read as a oneshot**. It started off was a long, long piece that I just got carried away with. Didn't plan for it to get so long... so I just crudely cut the entire thing into four bits (three main chapters and an epilogue of sorts).

I don't know what else to say — except that I've never imagined the Afrieud pairing would be this hot and I regret my life completely for ignoring it until now. This marks the start of a new pairing for Freud (or in other words, why is Freud so fuckable? *shot*)

**Includes: Biting, slight violence, dom/sub rs, orgasm denial, threesome**

Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**MAJOR OVERHAUL UNDERWAY starting June 20**

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Freud found that Afrien, in his human form, was stunning.

Afrien was silently rearranging the books on his desk with meticulous precision, and Freud couldn't stop his eyes roving down his frame. He moved like a deadly predator, a taut coil of barely-contained power that was both terrifying and awfully mesmerizing at once.

Taut muscles rippled under the porcelain skin of his bare back with every graceful, fluid motion. Those horizontal scars like cuts across his spine shone strangely in the light, precious gold that glittered like treasure amidst the abyssal darkness of his hair. It was an accessory on its own. The fine strands cascaded as a waterfall of molten onyx crystal, glimmering gently in the sunlight like threads spun out of a starless sky.

'Come in, Freud.'

Afrien had spoken without turning around.

For a moment Freud forgot he needed to reply or give an indication that he had heard, because Afrien's mighty voice had unseated something deep inside him. The silky, mellow notes commanded the authority of a king who had ruled for countless years. Yet at the same time it was husky, rough, even _dangerous,_ but it only seemed to emphasize the melodious intonations of a young man in his prime.

When he got no answer, Afrien glanced over his shoulder at him. Their gazes met. And Freud felt a soft breath of air escape past his lips. It was like staring at liquid fire, no, into the sun, fierce and stunning and brilliant and melting his very core.

Afrien raised his eyebrow just slightly.

Swallowing the growing itch in his throat, Freud forced a smile. 'Hello, Afrien.'

'Good afternoon.'

The man seemed to lose interest and Freud found himself breathing again, as if he had forgotten to all this while. Was he actually bristling at being brushed aside? As Afrien tended to the desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, the one thing Freud knew was that his mind was quickly falling to shambles and he was powerless, swept up in the massive tide of desire, thoughts of this dangerous man who was far more trouble than he was worth.

Yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to this paradox of a man. Afrien seemed to have his attention wholly on Freud without even looking at him. He moved so delicately like every movement was a carefully-planned choreograph, yet he moved like a fighter, on edge and powerful and poised to draw blood in the blink of an eye.

Come on, Freud. Don't forget to talk. 'To what do I owe the honor of having you stop by today?'

Afrien's lips curled back in a smirk, revealing perfect teeth as he straightened, carelessly tossing his long straight hair back over his shoulder. As Afrien turned, the insignia on his left bicep moved with a life of its own. A dragon coiled there, its head raised in a proud arch while the rest of its calligraphic frame twisted around his elbow, a pointed tail encircling his wrist.

'Surely a King can stop by and pay respects to his favorite scholar?' the words seemed to pour like honey from his lips, sweetened by an amused glimmer in the deep, topaz recesses of his eyes.

Freud stood his ground as Afrien glided over like a wraith, his footfalls inaudible even in the silence of his study.

'Of course you may.'

'I thought as much,' purred Afrien, stopping a few steps away. Freud realised, as he looked up to meet Afrien's eyes, that he was half a head shorter. 'I merely noticed that you were a little stressed, lately.'

'And how, pray tell, does His Majesty know?'

Afrien smiled then, a smile that was as charming as it was primal.

'With my superior instincts and the way you splay yourself open for me like a book, dear Freud.' Freud found his breath quickening as Afrien pressed in close to him, lifted a hand and ran it down his shoulder. Even through his robes, Afrien's touch burned.

That dangerous smile didn't go away, not even when Freud gently shrugged his hand off. 'You know, Afrien, once upon a lifetime, I swear you called me Master and insisted on your life not to call me Freud.'

'You are right.'

He only realised he was being crowded against the wall when its cold surface pressed up against his back.

'Freud.'

His name. For some strange reason it sounded awkward, almost... foreign.

'And still you insist on calling me Freud,' he murmured, trying his hardest to clear his mind.

'You are right,' repeated Afrien, leaning in so close that Freud could practically taste the earthy scent, feel the warm breaths coaxing shivers across the sensitive skin of his neck. Afrien's voice was butter, smooth and rich, a gentle caress on the shell of his ear. 'The time when I called you Master was but a lifetime ago.'

Master. Afrien growled it like a taboo. And the word shot lightning through him, made his hair stand on end.

'To me, you are but Freud.' And again, that delicious word ringing in his ears, before it was replaced by the sweetest heat around the lobe of his ear. It was Afrien's tongue, teasing the skin around the golden earring, raking up the outer shell, leaving a chill where air touched his heated skin.

Something dark and hungry was stirring inside him, draining the strength he needed to pull away. Afrien was nibbling on the lobe now, his teeth teasing the soft skin gently. He wanted to lean into Afrien's touch. He wanted more.

'Afrien, you…'

'Address me as King Afrien, scholar.' Afrien pulled sharply on the earring as if to admonish him. It forced a sharp gasp of breath from Freud's lips and Afrien rumbled with satisfaction at the sound. 'I will have no less.'

Afrien pulled away slightly and Freud's gaze flickered to meet his eyes, in something almost like blind reverence. His control was slipping, his breaths coming harder, his thoughts faltering as Afrien gently clasped his right hand, his slender fingers caressing the tattoo on the back, a matching insignia to Afrien's tattoo but slightly smaller.

Not looking away, Afrien lifted Freud's hand to his lips, dropping a kiss of pretense chasteness there. 'You are _mine._'

And that last word was a growl, a deeply primal urge, a rolling thunderstorm that echoed in Freud's mind, the gusts clearing the last of the cobwebs left by his haze of desire. The world fell away to nothing, leaving only this striking man standing before him and lowering his hand from his lips.

His tattoo was fiery golden, a matching blaze to Afrien's own.

Freud stood dumbly, watching as Afrien sauntered over to the middle of the room, contemplating. He scowled at Freud's simple furniture, tutting as he pulled up a chair. 'How ever will this do for someone of my stature, little one… Guess I will just have to make do with this.'

_I'm not little_, Freud wanted to say, as childish as it sounded, but his mind was preoccupied tracing the finely-chiseled lines across of Afrien's midriff, following the V that disappeared past a leather belt and soft blue slacks, imagining what treasure lay hidden in that valley.

It was only when he looked up again to meet Afrien's eyes when he realised the man had been watching his very obvious appreciation for Afrien's body. He felt his cheeks burn, but in Afrien's presence there was no room for shame or embarrassment, not in the royal air of this King.

'Come here,' Afrien said.

And Freud could not disobey.

Afrien's mind wrapped around his own, around his limbs. He found himself stumbling forward, trancelike, his movements subconscious like he was trapped in a dream, towards the man pooled in the chair like it was a throne. Afrien sat, legs wide apart, in what seemed like invitation, a quiet smile on his face.

He yearned to hear a single sliver of praise from those lips so much that the mere thought of disobedience made him shudder. A small part of him, the rational part of him, screamed that this wasn't natural, this wasn't supposed to happen, this was _mind control!_, but all he did was quash it with a gasp of Afrien's name under his breath.

The man contemplated Freud standing before him, and Freud realised with a shiver that Afrien had planned all along for this to happen.

'Strip.'

The command made heat rush to his cheeks, fiercer and warmer now. Startled beyond movement, he let slip a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and didn't move even though Afrien had let go.

Then Afrien smiled wider and got him to strip anyway.

His hands moved mechanically, his muscles pulled every which way by Afrien's hold. First to go was the red robe, which he shrugged quickly from his shoulders, the weight a relief to finally drop on the ground. The buttons came off without any fumble at the delicate task of fitting the disc through the slit in his shirt.

Halfway through, Afrien paused, a glint appearing in his eyes. Freud found himself running the hands down the line of buttons — his hands? Afrien's hands? — and circling around to his flanks before tracing up shyly to his collarbone. His head was tilted back and even he heard the bated breath snatched from his lungs as his own fingertips played nimbly along the contours of his neck.

His hands were moved more nimbly, more deftly than he could ever intend them to and he welcomed the stimulation from his touching himself. They ran down again, brushing over his nipples through his shirt and Freud inhaled sharply, partly in pleasure and partly to arch his chest out for more. Afrien saw and smiled, but paid no heed, instead focusing on the final button and popping it open. The silk shirt pooled around his feet.

His hands fell to his sides, bearing his chest for Afrien. It felt good to be savored under that heated gaze, yet unnerving at the same time, as if he was being devoured on the spot. On display and helpless, unable to move his body out of Afrien's mental grip, he resigned himself to standing like that in the chill for a long, long time, burning up on the inside and yet shivering as tiny little tremors clawed up his spine from deep within his gut.

Afrien shook his head, dissatisfied, and moved him. Freud stooped to pick up the robe, his mind a haze. He shrugged back into the heavy fabric, fingering the golden hem. It would only get warmer in the thick, heat-trapping folds of the red robes. Even without it there had already been a sheen of perspiration across his forehead from the nerve-wrecking promise of what was to come.

He straightened at attention and Afrien had him stand even straighter still. The folds of the robe were arranged perfectly, as Afrien wished, displaying clearly the pert nubs of his nipples and hiding nothing.

With a nod from Afrien, he came forward, all but melting backwards into the taller man's embrace. The smell of trees and springtime overwhelmed him again but Afrien didn't give him much respite, pulling his hips backwards and against a thick, hardened shaft that pressed up against the cheeks of his ass.

'Sweet Freud,' Afrien drew his tongue up from his shoulder to his neck, leaving a trail of electrified nerves, 'Doesn't it feel good to give in?'

He didn't move, couldn't move, couldn't respond or protest as Afrien pressed little teasing kisses down his shoulder, back the way he came. He gasped as Afrien nipped his wet skin playfully, reveling in the sharp sting as Afrien tugged down the robe to reveal his bony shoulder. One side, then the other, the heavy fabric dropping down to his elbows and hanging there.

Afrien had him turn his head. His eyes immediately darted to those fiery ones, pleading and trying to convey the sheer desire that was crashing over him in waves. He needed to move, he needed more, more than the darting tongue that was teasing the bottom of his jaw.

'My Freud is hungry,' purred Afrien, something large and dangerous flickering in the fiery depths of his eyes, 'But he has to wait until his King has gotten what he wants.'

Afrien nuzzled against his ear, the warm breaths tickling the skin. He could hear the clink of his metal earring against Afrien's teeth as the man nipped at the skin. He moved, nuzzling into Freud's hair, against the golden and purple headband on his head. The Dragon Master's signature equipment, one that reminded him of his place — of a Master, ruined to a desperate, wanting mess in his dragon's arms.

He managed to catch Afrien's gaze again and this time he almost succeeded in letting out a whine. He didn't even care any more, there was a building ache between his legs and he was practically sitting on the cock that he wanted Afrien to pound into him with, make him scream out and give him release.

_Please, Afrien._

'You know I cannot resist your beautiful eyes when you beg me like that, little one.'

Afrien looked crestfallen, but Freud knew it was a pretense. His vision cut to black as Afrien clapped a hand over his eyes.

'This way I cannot see you,' but hear him Freud did, as well as imagine the wicked grin that was splitting each word into two, 'And this way you will not know what to expect.'

Afrien bucked up into him then, and Freud groaned as the thick shaft sidled up against him, but he couldn't feel its shape from the jeans that he had on. The groan turned into a sharp gasp as Afrien palmed the aching spot between his legs, pressing down lightly and rolling his palm across.

'And here I thought I would have to control you myself,' laughed Afrien. 'My, Freud… so hard already…'

Freud thrust his hips forward desperately and Afrien released his hand, pulling sharply on the robes around his elbows. He felt the fabric tighten as Afrien twisted it around his grip, pulling his shoulders backward and immobilizing his arms behind him.

He was gasping, shivering as Afrien latched on to his neck, sucking hard. 'My Freud,' Afrien's low rumble melted across his quivering skin as he reached around, snaked his hand between the waistband of his jeans and Freud's aching crotch. He could feel the Afrien's fingertips pressing against his swollen head. Dampness seeped into his birefs soon after, the spot growing as Afrien massaged and rolled the head around for more.

The edge of Afrien's teeth brushed against the skin of his neck and he tilted his head to the side, fighting against Afrien's mental hold on him so he could strain upwards for more of the sharp, sweet pain. There came a throaty rumble, a chuckle as Afrien granted him the mercy he tried to beg for so desperately, fastening his teeth around heated skin and tugging. It cut into him like fangs and still he pressed back for more, drunk on the exhilarating mixture of pain and pleasure. All the while his cock was throbbing, almost painful in Afrien's teasing touches, on the brink of orgasm and yet held back for now.

Afrien pulled his hand away then and Freud moaned, a stray breath escaping Afrien's mental grip and tearing itself from his lips. It was a sound so wanton that Freud almost couldn't believe it had come from him. 'Hush, little one,' cooed Afrien, 'It will be alright.' And he sang it so sweetly that if there wasn't a tight, coiling mass between his legs, he would actually have believed him.

He undid the button, and then the zipper of the constricting jeans and sweet relief flooded him. Freud knew what Afrien was seeing as he looked down over his shoulder. Damp briefs, an engorged shaft and a pair of tight balls all pressed flush against his heaving frame. He could feel Afrien's lean chest against his back, holding him close as he brought a fingertip down to tickle the base of his sac.

'Please,' Freud gasped, as soon as he realised his mouth could move of his own accord.

'Moan for me,' said Afrien.

His cheeks burned at the direct order. He didn't want to make any more of those disgusting sounds if he could help it.

The fingers around his eyes didn't so much as twitch as Afrien's other hand thumbed the pert nipple on his chest and he forced himself to bite back a moan that nearly escaped his lips.

'Moan, I said,' hissed Afrien. There was a vicious twist of his nipple then, making him yelp.

Freud gritted out a begrudging whimper.

'Louder,' Afrien left the first nub aching and raw, and circled around the other one by way of encouragement. Freud obliged, letting out another desperate sound, one that had audible undertones of desire laced along it.

And Afrien let out a groan that was far hungrier. Freud shivered, Afrien's lust multiplied severalfold now washed over him as he toyed with his nipples, pinching and rolling one way and then the next, keeping Freud twisting in a vain attempt to get more friction. He groaned whenever Afrien's fingers tightened around him, seeking more of the jolts that traversed his frame to coil at the depths of his crotch.

'That's it… you sound gorgeous, sweet Freud…' Again, that gentle voice, and Afrien's gentle touches, trailing down to his crotch. Freud welcomed the fire under his fingertips and the ghosting touches of those fingers, fervently praying for more. 'So hot… all for me. All mine.'

Redemption came in the form of Afrien's finger, hooked around his waistband and tugging sharply down to free his erection before it was gone.

Then his hand was back, no, his finger was back, tracing a line from the base of shaft to the head with his nail. Freud let out a choked whine as the light sensation slowly travelled up to the top, circled around the slit of the swollen head, and gently made its way back down again. Afrien held him perfectly still as he raised his hand again, coming to rest on the eye and gently flicking it, purring when Freud throbbed and leaked precum. He groaned. He was desperate, tightly-wound, and unhinged, and he couldn't concentrate on anything other than the feathery touches on his shaft.

Afrien gripped him then, firmly, and began to stroke him. Freud could have shed tears from the relief that flooded his veins, the much needed attention that Afrien finally paid to his leaking cock, his hand tender and yet providing just the right strength to coax forth the deepest undertones of pleasure. Afrien was groaning raw lust into his ear, low and rumbling as he pumped his hand up and down, slicking Freud's erection with his own sweat and precum. He found himself slowly rocking his hips in time to Afrien's stubbornly unchanging rhythm, a comfortable gait that was not in the least comfortable for him, fast enough to goad him on and yet slow enough to keep him from getting off from the pace.

He leaned back, breathing in Afrien's musky scent, forcing his desire out in exhales of sharp moans and gasps, sweet little sounds of pleasure. The fist around him was tightening further, and Freud ached to thrust upwards into the friction and into the promise of release. But Afrien held him steady, teasingly squeezing him tighter on random pumps of his hand before relaxing, his fingers a loose ring around his throbbing shaft with barely enough pressure to be felt. Back and forth Afrien brought him, from the highest place of pleasure to absolute and unbearable teasing, with Freud's unflagging erection still leaking in a silent bid for mercy.

Then Afrien pulled away. Freud tried to thrust forward, craving more friction, another touch, a gentle brush with the back of his hand, anything, but Afrien merely murmured, 'Patience, little one.'

There were fingers placed on the lower lip of his gaping mouth. He knew before Afrien moved his hand, knew that Afrien wanted him to suck. He did. Obediently and slightly desperately, he brought the long slender fingers into his mouth, running his tongue along the sides and sucking. They were damp, moist with his precum. He traced the knuckles and the ridges of his skin with the flat of his tongue, imagining these long fingers wrapping deftly around his shaft, stroking him, hands fit for a beautiful king or writer.

Gods, how he loved those hands. They were all he'd felt for the past eternity — or maybe it'd been just a few minutes. He groaned around the three fingers, coating them with his saliva and teasing them with the edge of his teeth, hollowing out his cheeks and trying to take them as deep as he could without gagging. And Afrien rewarded his efforts with a muted hum of approval that made something deep within his guts vibrate with sheer eagerness and the need to please those fingers, the owner of those fingers, Afrien himself, in any way he knew how.

Afrien tapped his forehead with a finger and he opened his mouth, disappointed when the fingers inside him drew away. He could feel the man's warm breaths on the skin of his chest as he panted for breath to clear his head and ease the tightness in his cock. But the blur in his mind and the throbbing between his legs still remained, even as Afrien's comforting voice sung baritones in his ear and promised him release if he be good.

Afrien trailed his hand, wet from the sickening mix of saliva and precum, down Freud's torso, circling around to brush fondly against his balls before tracing up to the slit on the head. The fingers caressed the flared head, admiring the hardness and the way precum still forced its way through the opening, before slipping down and gently angling his cock away from his crotch.

Then a different kind of warmth enveloped him, it was _hot_ and _wet_ and brought him up to another kind of pleasure Afrien hadn't yet let him experience. A ragged, breathy groan tore from his lips as the warmth slipped down, surely… surely, no, Afrien's hand was climbing back up his heaving chest, circling around one nipple and then the next, and the heat pulled back up to the tip of his cock and circled around the entrance in time to Afrien's ministrations. There were only two hands on him, yet warmth and a whole new world of pleasure was perched on the head of his cock, it was a _tongue_ lapping at the entrance there and tasting the fruits of its teasing.

'Afrien,' he whimpered, realising he was able to move and jerking backwards into the man's strong hold. He didn't want anyone else but that King touching him, and he tried to squirm away but the mouth chased after him, bobbing down lower and he was soon pressed flush against Afrien's chest with nowhere left to go.

'Hush, my Freud…' Afrien purred, fastening his jaws around his earlobe again, darting around the golden ring there with his tongue.

'N-no, I… I don't want…'

'What?' Afrien smiled as whoever was sucking him slid further down, he felt his head press against the fluttering muscles of the back of a mouth, and he gritted his teeth to bite back the urge to come.

'Only… only you…' Freud groaned in frustration as the someone pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock.

A part of him told him it was familiar, that he had felt it all before, but it wasn't Afrien, it couldn't be true.

Afrien laughed, and Freud felt his heart lift at the pride and happiness that radiated from the man in waves, at hearing Freud declare this loyalty to him.

'Pull up,' Afrien commanded, and the mouth left his cock.

Freud let out a tired whimper, trying to turn his head to nuzzle into Afrien's hair, his comforting scent, to know that he wasn't merely _used_.

'You may speak.'

Freud opened his mouth…

'Finally! I can't believe you didn't want to share him.' That voice… 'You know full well how _hot_ he is. You're a mean old lizard, Afrien.'


	2. Chapter 2

The hand was lifted from his eyes.

'Gods, he's out of it. How long have you been teasing him?'

Deep amethyst eyes studied him intently, belonging to an ornately dressed man, decked in the finest silk and gold embroidery, framed perfectly by beautiful sandy locks.

'Phantom,' whispered Freud, struggling to make sense of it, 'You…?'

'Yes, it's me,' he huffed. 'Wounded me to the quick, too. I've given you so many blowjobs and you still can't recognise the deft maneuvers of my talented —'

'Enough,' snarled Afrien, the rumble fierce and primitive, and the arms around Freud tightened so hard it almost hurt.

Afrien was… jealous?

'Now, now, Afrien… you need to learn to share…' Phantom smiled down at the two of them, locked in a lover's embrace, and wagged a finger. 'Try again.'

Afrien merely turned, and Freud felt the low notes of his voice flow like music into his ear, registered his warm breath against the shell.

'Phantom,' he mewled as pitifully as he could, meeting Phantom's gaze with glazed watery eyes, a look he knew Phantom never was able to resist, 'Please _please_ suck me.'

_If you make him suck you, I'll let you come_.

'And what's in it for me?' asked Phantom, warily.

Afrien began running his fingers along Freud's ribs, gently brushing the sides and running along the contours, sidling closer to his nipples, brushing across the nubs. He nudged Freud's head the other way and Freud obliged, turning his head to reveal perfect unmarked skin, ready for Afrien's taking.

'I won't threaten to kick you out my study the next time you ask for sex,' gasped Freud, eyes sliding closed as Afrien licked and nursed at the tender skin of his neck.

'Done,' proclaimed Phantom.

The teeth tightened around his shoulder and Freud yelped with the pain.

'How dare you,' hissed Afrien.

Phantom's mouth was around Freud before he knew it and he arched upwards into the blissful warmth. Phantom was right, it was his tongue, the way it glossed over the right spots, making him tremble in his warmth, licked up the side of his shaft as if tasting him right there and then. Afrien growled and merely sucked hard, coaxing blood to his skin and crashing his teeth against it at the same time, and Freud dimly registered that the marks would stay there for days to come.

Phantom bobbed up and down, licking incessantly, the heat and the quick flicks of his tongue making Freud shudder. The edge of orgasm loitered around the corner, tantalizingly close and he bucked up into Phantom's mouth, seeking the friction his sore cock needed. With a smug chuckle Phantom obliged and Freud slid straight down into those warm recesses, feeling Phantom pulse fiercely around him as he swallowed and swallowed.

He keened, but Afrien merely growled dangerously into his ear. 'Not yet, little one.'

But he couldn't wait any longer. Thrusting faster into Phantom's mouth, and throbbing in the tight heat of his throat, he chased the orgasm down Phantom's throat, trying to push as much of his length into those muscles as possible. He vaguely registered Phantom's grunt of surprise and a hand, lifting away from one of his sore nipples before heat enveloped his entire length.

Teeth raked along his shaft and he cracked his eyes open in alarm, blinking through the haze to see Afrien's hand, carded in Phantom's sandy hair and setting the pace, again that unfaltering pace from base to tip to base and back again. Afrien held him close, had a leg flung over Freud's to hold his hips down, preventing him from moving, and was breathing heavily into his ear. Freud groaned as Afrien guided him into Phantom's throat on every pass, feeling the warm muscles throb around him rhythmically, as if trying to squeeze every last bit of come from him.

And still he couldn't come. Afrien had released the hold on his body but not on his cock, and no matter how hard Phantom swallowed around him, the vestigial euphoria would flare from the base of his gut and race through him and culminate at his head — only to flow out in a few droplets of limp precum. He groaned in frustration.

'Afrien, A-Afrien, I can't —'

'You can, my Freud. Just a little longer.'

Phantom's breaths were sharp on his groin and on his shaft, and it was only when he caught the watery surface of his eyes and felt his throat start to strain from the constant sliding of his cock did he hear those merciful words:

'Come, Freud.'

And he did.

He arched upwards with a yell, feeling Afrien's hold loosen completely. The waves upon waves of delayed pleasure finally crashed on him, and again as Phantom slid down to take him to the hilt, swallowing hard to milk him as he orgasmed. Freud feels his fingers twist in the robes around his wrists, tightening as his entire body tensed and rode the onslaughts of bliss, the only thought in his mind of the hands dancing in patterns along his nipples and the mouth around his cock.

He fell back against Afrien's bare chest, shuddering and panting as he blinked away the last of the stars in his vision. And saw Afrien's fist balled up in Phantom's collar, creasing the shirt. Sluggishly, he wondered what kind of swears Phantom would come up with at having his finest clothes ruined, before he saw the ropes of come that streaked across the Master Thief's face.

Afrien pulled him close, so close that Phantom and Freud were almost touching, and leaned in to gently lick the come off Phantom's face. He watched, dumbly, enraptured as Phantom merely closed his eyes and let Afrien slowly clean off every drop, watched Phantom sigh gently as if enjoying the gentle touch, watched Afrien's throat bob as he swirled the come in his mouth before swallowing every mouthful like a precious elixir.

By the time Afrien was done and had released the Master Thief, Freud was beginning to feel faint stirring in his loins at the way the dark man had savored every bit of his come.

Afrien turned to look straight into his eyes from the vantage point of his shoulder and Freud shivered at the deep undercurrents of lust that still ran plainly behind the golden irises. He leaned in, making Freud once again drunk on his rich earthly scent, so close that he could feel Afrien's breath ghosting over his skin, smell the hunger there.

Their lips met, Afrien's strangely soft and smooth and Freud found himself melting into the gentle touch. The man captured Freud's with a soft growl that sent shivers down his spine, and began lapping at Freud's lips, tongue demanding entrance. Freud parted his mouth and felt his tongue slip in, brushing over every part of his teeth and gums and tongue, and he kept his mouth open, pliant to Afrien's touches, wanting for nothing more than for him to know him inside out.

The nipping started as Afrien brought a hand to trace down his spine. Everywhere he touched was electrifying, he was torn between leaning into the fingers playing on his spine or arching forward into the nipping and tugging of Afrien's teeth. He moaned and Afrien immediately sucked viciously on his lips, as if trying to drink every stray sound that escaped from his mouth. The fingers slid lower and hooked around the hemline of his jeans, tugging it lower to expose the cheeks of his ass.

Afrien pulled away and he opened his eyes again, seeing Afrien reach wordlessly for the little bottle that Phantom handed him. Then Phantom strode forward, eliciting a moan from Freud and a warning rumble from Afrien, and tilted Freud's chin up. His lips were still slightly chapped from Afrien's sharp bites but Phantom captured them anyway, licking over them to soothe the slight burns. Afrien gently pushed Freud forward, making him arch his back, and Phantom compensated for Freud's shift in balance by holding on to his shoulder with one hand and holding his chin up with another. The scent of Phantom's cologne mingled sweetly with Afrien's, a mix that Freud was all too happy to get intoxicated in.

'Stand,' said Afrien, the order clearly addressed to the blonde, and Phantom did so, sulky to have to break the kiss. Freud groaned as Phantom weaved his fingers into his hair, holding the base tight enough to sting but not enough to hurt, immobilizing him.

The fingers danced along his tailbone, cold and slick with oil.

'I want to be sucked,' demanded Phantom haughtily to Afrien. Freud watched the two unwavering personalities and wondered how they would try to make him serve them both at once, and who would get more than the other.

'This little one belongs to me,' hissed Afrien, an implicit _no_, the ends of his hair brushing lightly across Freud's back as the fingers moved down deeper still. He tried to lift his hips, a desperate signal for Afrien's fingers to slide in, and he would have leaned back against Afrien's chest and tried everything he knew to find out how Afrien's hands felt in his innermost regions.

'He loves me more,' said Phantom, tracing Freud's lower lip with a thumb. Freud looked up beseechingly at Phantom, finding his eyes locked onto the man behind him on the chair. Freud's own eyes flickered down, admiring the lean cut of Phantom's suit and settling on the region between his legs as the thumb pressed harder against his lips and Freud took it in, lapping diligently at every spot.

'He wears my mark on his right hand. And I own half his soul.' To make his point he snaked a hand swiftly up to Freud's chest and twisted a nipple. Freud yelped and yet welcomed the sharp pain, gasping in the dull ache of pleasure that Afrien left when he pulled his hand away.

'Well, his other half was mine when I landed on his windowsill that night.' Phantom's thumb pressed down on his tongue, pinning it to the base of his mouth as his other fingers wrapped around Freud's chin, tilting his head up. Freud grudgingly tore his eyes away from Phantom's crotch and staring blearily at Phantom's features, noting the smugness in the slight tilt of his lips.

There was a jealous rumble behind him. 'You took _everything_?'

'He _gave_ it to me,' smirked Phantom, not even sparing a glance down at Freud, who had fastened his lips around the finger and was still sucking dutifully. 'He surrendered it all by himself, didn't you, Freud?'

The hand in his hair tightened and he let out a little moan, in agreement or merely in the throngs of please he wasn't able to discern.

'I see.' Afrien suddenly sounded mellow again, contemplative. His fingers finally slid down the crack of his ass, circling around his entrance and pressing slightly. Freud tried to rock his hips backwards but the hand of the Master Thief held him still. Almost doubled over on the chair, all he could do was feel his muscles twitch involuntarily at the Afrien's gentle touch on his entrance, and wait until the man finally showed him mercy.

'A-Afrien… please,' he gasped out around Phantom's finger and Phantom let out a sound of indignation.

'See, Master Thief?' Afrien purred and his smugness soaked through Freud, warm and enveloping. 'He asked _me_ first.'

Still his finger didn't move.

'Make him come before I do and I'll believe you.'

'Oh?' contemplated Afrien, humming. The sound was a saw to Freud's nerves, now he knew how cruel Afrien could be and he tried to protest around Phantom's thumb but it turned into a groan of pleasure as the very tip of Afrien's finger finally pressed into the ring of his muscles.

'Place your bets?' grinned Phantom, pulling his thumb away, leaving a trail of saliva down his chin.

'My little one will not lose,' murmured Afrien, running his other hand up and down Freud's heaving back, up his arms bound by the robe looped around them. 'I am waiting, Phantom.'

Phantom smiled. 'My sincerest apologies, King Afrien.' With a low chuckle that had Freud's gut twisting on itself, he stepped forward, and Freud blinked at the white fabric that suddenly swallowed his vision. He could smell Phantom's scent through his cologne. Wordlessly he fit his teeth around the button of Phantom's pants and strained against it, pushing the metal clasp through its loop with much difficulty before latching onto the zipper and gently tugging it down.

Afrien's finger stayed just at the entrance, wriggling occasionally and making him squirm as Phantom let out a groan of satisfaction. His hand was tugging Freud back as he pulled down his underwear, revealing his half-erection. Freud felt his eyes light as Phantom leaned forward, one hand around the shaft to guide it to his mouth, and he returned the kiss to Phantom's head before it was eased between his lips and settled heavily on his tongue.

'Suck, love,' murmured Phantom, his voice as silky as milk. 'You know how I like it.' Freud did indeed, his length was familiar in his mouth, he loved how Phantom's length grew steadily and quickly harder in his mouth. He worked his tongue, lapping at the shaft and dancing around the eye, trying to coax him to give him some salty precome.

'I do not want you swallow a drop.' Afrien's voice was a low but the displeasure was more than evident, he could imagine those fiery eyes narrowed as he watched Freud try to move himself forward and take Phantom deeper in his throat.

'Afrien, you're a mean old lizard.'

Freud let out a groan as Afrien's finger slid in deeper, could feel the first two knuckles past the tight ring of muscle already. Afrien began to move his finger in and out, taking his own stately time and carefully making sure every part of Freud's insides could feel his entire finger before pulling out and gently pushing in again. Freud shuddered as the finger inside him moved deeper and deeper each time, and yet always seemed to avoid that sweet spot that would give him pleasure, leaving him on the verge of it every single thrust.

He focused instead on wrapping his lips around Phantom's cock and gently running his tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein, the path of which he had already memorised from a long time ago. He felt Phantom slowly but steadily turn harder in his mouth, tracing the shape and feeling it grow, imagining how flared the head must've been, the way it throbbed.

'That's it, love,' Phantom gasped, and Freud could hear the pleasure that rocked his voice, making it quivery from the strain. Phantom leaned in and his cock slid in deeper still, the hardness brushing the back of his throat, and Freud instinctively relaxed to take it in.

'Do not swallow,' repeated Afrien again, quickly slipping another finger inside him and making him gasp, before he keened from being split open by two of his fingers, scissored inside him. He gasped hungrily for breath around Phantom's length. 'I do not want to see that throat of yours moving, little one.'

'Afrien!' snapped Phantom, Freud heard something unhinged in his voice before Phantom's cock slid down his throat. 'That's not fair!'

Afrien merely smirked and chuckled as Phantom fastened both hands in his hair and began to thrust into his mouth in earnest. The taste of Phantom's precome was everywhere, on his lips, on his tongue, and with the hardness that was being pulled and slid into his mouth, faster and faster, he could barely still his gag reflex and _not_ swallow. But Phantom's length was throbbing harder now, and he yearned to gulp the salty precome down, and rub his aching throat muscles against Phantom's length, to remember how Phantom felt inside him.

Afrien's fingers began moving faster now, matching Phantom's pace and Freud could feel precome on his leg where it had trickled down in a transparent thread from his own cock. Every time Freud leaned forward to take Phantom deeper, Afrien's fingers pulled out, fingertips barely still buried inside of him, curling there and making him shudder, feeling empty although he knew Afrien's fingers were still there. He moaned around Phantom's cock, looking up to watch how dazed his eyes were, glassy from his desire and arousal.

Phantom's cock slid deeper into his throat and he closed his eyes to feel him better, dying to swallow and press his muscles against the throbbing mass. He worked his throat muscles, making them flutter around him and made Phantom groan, sliding forward so far that Freud could nuzzle into the golden coarse hairs on his crotch. There he inhaled sharply, eyes watering as Afrien slipped a third finger inside him and began to stroke his prostate, drawing his fingers lightly across the bump and sending sparks shooting through his veins. Instinctively he clenched down on Afrien's fingers, making him rumble in pleasure and earned himself a firm knead on the spot that had him shivering in pleasure.

'So hot,' murmured Phantom appreciatively as he began to fuck his mouth. Freud gasped hungrily for breath each time he could, realising that the saliva and precome he hadn't swallowed so far was trickling down his chin. Phantom tightened his grip in his hair, rocking his hips harder and faster to get his length down Freud's throat, and Freud wrapped his lips around it and sucked, flicked his tongue along the pulsing shaft, lapped wherever he could. He kept his throat relaxed, and despite his not swallowing, he knew Phantom was enjoying the tightness of his throat from the low moans he was pulling from the blonde.

Afrien scissored his fingers again, making Freud gasp through his nose at being stretched, before Phantom loosened the grip he had in his hair. Afrien took over then, his grip slightly firmer but no more painful, and pulled Freud clean off Phantom's shaft.

Afrien brought his other hand around and began wiping off Phantom's precome from his chin, wiped it on Freud's robe before slipping his fingers back into his mouth and moving around, trying to clean every trace of Phantom from his mouth. Freud shivered and turned towards the hand, giving Afrien more room to slip his fingers in.

'That's no fun at all,' gasped Phantom, looking enraged and slightly amusing with his hardening length standing at attention. 'You, you… you perverted, horny, over-controlling excuse of a gecko!'

'I take that as a compliment,' purred Afrien. Freud was thankful that Afrien's fingers didn't dig at the back of his throat, he'd have gagged. Afrien hummed contemplatively as he clasped Freud's tongue gently and pulled it out of his mouth, as if inspecting for any stray flecks he might have missed. Not that he could see it, thought Freud hazily.

'What happened to the bet? I was about to come and you just… pulled him off like that. Were you afraid you might lose?'

'On the contrary.' Afrien wrapped an arm around Freud's torso and pulled him on shaky feet. He glanced down at his own cock, hardened and leaking all over again, and whined. 'I have better plans. My little one is opened and ready…' Afrien wriggled his fingers inside him and Freud might have keeled over if not for Afrien's strong grip on his shoulders, 'And I feel generous enough to share with a certain needy Master Thief.'

'So generous all of a sudden, King gecko?' Phantom huffed, nursing his erection with a loose grip as Afrien guided Freud over to his desk.

Afrien pulled out his fingers with a sickening squelch and untangled the robe from Freud's arms. Freud let his arms fall to the sides, trying to work some sensation into them as Afrien turned him around, easily lifting and depositing him face up on the table.

'Little Freud loves you, does he not?' smiled Afrien, pulling away. From his spot on the desk, his hardened erection stood straight up and Freud could see Afrien on one side, while Phantom scowled at him on the other.

'More than he could ever say,' declared Phantom proudly, puffing up. Freud smiled weakly then, remembering how he had gasped those words over a haze of euphoria as Phantom fucked him into his bed.

'Show me.' Afrien gestured lazily, he might as well be gesturing for Phantom to help himself to some food.

Phantom grinned. 'Don't mind if I do, then.'


	3. Chapter 3

His hands were on Freud's jeans, his swift sleight of hand or perhaps just practiced ease making short work of it and then the white briefs that followed. Afrien stood beside Phantom as he propped his legs up, watching Freud's expression intently, as if weighing the significance of every twitch of his face in order to discern who Freud loved more.

Phantom's head was pressing against his entrance then, a familiar size and thickness, and Freud couldn't help a groan as the pressure slowly increased. Phantom arched forward and captured Freud's hands, twining their fingers together and Freud smiled blearily, it was Phantom's way of showing him he loved him and yet maintaining control over the pace.

He had been slicked and well opened earlier, but it had to be the sheer familiarity with Phantom that had him able to slide in to the hilt at one long thrust. Freud knew to relax and to rock his hips just so, giving Phantom the leverage and angle he needed for that smooth entrance, like a knife sliding through butter, gentle and effortless and _oh so good._ Freud almost came when Phantom's hardness pressed up against his prostate, and Phantom laughed, haggardly, his breaths coming in short gasps as they watched Freud's cock twitch and leak precome.

They stayed like that for a while, Freud with his mouth hanging open to drag air into his lungs, which felt compressed from Phantom's hardness. Gods, he didn't remember the last time Phantom had been this unhinged even before they started fucking, his eyes were distant and faraway and there was a beautiful sheen of lust tinging his deep purple irises. He wanted Phantom to start moving, now, quickly, just plough into him with all the force he could muster, feel Phantom pressing up against him, his scent and his lean body flush up against him.

Then Phantom began to move. Freud groaned on every deep thrust, feeling Phantom rutting him against the table from the force of his movement. The blonde was smiling, a glazed and bleary smile that Phantom reserved when Freud was pleasuring him or the other way round, one he only saw in the throes of sex and one that signalled that Phantom was close to the edge. Phantom's cock was hard and pistoning furiously in and out of him, he heard his own shaky gasps over the sound of Phantom's sac slapping against his ass.

'My Freud,' he groaned, still smiling and Freud saw the definite warmth of love in his eyes. Freud rocked his hips back against Phantom's, clenching rhythmically and fucking him back, tightening and pulsing around his hardness as he pounded into his sweet hole. Phantom groaned and leaned forward still, so close they could kiss, his clipped breaths washing over Freud's neck and making him shiver.

Phantom let out a yelp and the grip on his hands tightened so hard they hurt. Freud groaned as something jarred their rhythm, the master thief slamming forcefully into him and arching up, pressing against his prostate.

He opened his eyes, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to look down at Phantom, who was hunched over and looking backwards over his shoulder… at Afrien. Afrien had quietly shifted and was standing behind Phantom, and his chin was hooked over Phantom's shoulder like he had done to Freud, his hair cascading down Phantom's chest as he murmured things into his ear.

Freud could hear snatches of his low baritone notes just clear enough over the haze of his arousal. 'Freud may love you… but he is still my little one, Master Thief.'

'Sure,' gritted Phantom out furiously. 'Now take your finger out of my ass.'

Afrien latched on to Phantom's ear, making the blonde shudder involuntarily. 'Such sensitive ears, Master Thief? It is no wonder you do not wear any ear ornaments, despite your fondness for gold.'

Freud felt Phantom harden inside him, throbbing in what definitely was sheer arousal as Afrien began to lap at the shell of Phantom's ear, nuzzling into the sandy hair.

'Move, little bandit. Do not keep my little one wanting.'

Afrien's hand gripped Freud's cock and began stroking firmly, and for the first time Freud saw those slender fingers grasp him and encircle him lovingly before they pumped up and down. He threw his head back with a moan as Phantom shuddered and rocked fiercely into Freud. Phantom's movement was guided by sheer lust and desperation now, and filled him in one harsh thrust that drew tears from the corners of Freud's eyes.

He was torn between thrusting up into Afrien's sweet friction or thrusting back against Phantom's fierce hardness for his pleasure. Phantom groaned as Afrien fastened his teeth around his ear, and the sight of Phantom, who had always teased him, finally getting dominated by this strikingly haunting raven-haired man, it sent a fierce tremor to his loins.

'P-please…'

Afrien's piercing gaze locked with his. He was pleased.

'Come, little one.'

For the second time that day Freud arched upwards and felt his load splattering all over his torso, hot and searing across his icy chest. His eyes watered from the sheer intensity of his orgasm and he thrust back against Phantom's cock as if trying to squeeze out the come from his guts. Phantom was still pummelling into him and sending him deeper into his ecstasy, one that turned to fire between his legs as the constant rubbing against his prostate sent fresh jolts up his spine.

'N-no,' gasped Freud, his cock aching as Afrien stroked him faster, firmer, and he tried to squirm away but Phantom's hands held him still, he might as well have been nailed to the table by Phantom's drilling. Too sensitive. He wanted to _please make it stop_ but Phantom hadn't yet gotten his release and neither was Afrien satisfied.

'I want Phantom to see how many times I can make you come,' he purred, and Freud wanted for nothing more than to obey those simple words, the simple desires they held, see approval in those golden eyes. 'Three? Four?'

Afrien circled around, one hand remaining between Phantom's pants and his ass, and Freud didn't have trouble guessing where it was. Carefully, Afrien put the stacks of books on the ground so he wouldn't upend them, and gently tugged them both over to the side of the desk.

And Freud could only gape as Afrien began to undress. First to go was the leather belt, which Afrien carefully draped across the desk, and then he slipped out of his navy blue slacks. They dropped to the ground and Freud's eyes widened at the size of his girth, the way it looked painfully hard and tight while Afrien's features were a perfect composition of calm. It was thicker than Phantom's, and longer, and there was a flash of open jealousy across Phantom's eyes at the way Freud marvelled at Afrien's length.

'Oh, now you're really pushing it,' gasped Phantom, closing his eyes and pumping into Freud with renewed determination. Freud yelped and keened, as arousal began to pool anew at the base of his spine, as Phantom forced him up yet another leering cliff of orgasm, each one taller and harder to reach than the one before.

'I personally prefer the term _dragon_ rather than gecko,' purred Afrien, amused. He reached over and gently cupped Freud's chin, guiding his length into his mouth. Freud could feel the heat from it even before it'd touched his lips. 'Now suck _me_, little one.'

Freud parted his lips to accommodate the new cock, getting used to his size. Afrien stood, idly playing with his hair as Freud lapped at him, tasting the salty tang of his sex and running his tongue along the numerous veins along his shaft. Freud groaned as Phantom pumped into him harder, jabbing straight for his prostate every time, feeling Phantom's shudders from how he knew Afrien was toying with Phantom's own spot.

Afrien hooked a leg up onto the table for leverage and Freud's eyes widened at how tall Afrien suddenly was. He was a head taller than Phantom but propped up on the desk, he seemed even taller. Freud opened his mouth wide, and Afrien wasted no time pushing his length into Freud's mouth. And when Afrien throbbed inside him, Freud felt the heat reverberate down to his loins, he was so hard inside that Afrien had to use his free hand to gently work his length down his throat.

'Take it slowly,' murmured Afrien, clearly concerned for him, but Freud nodded around his length and stretched his mouth further and Afrien slipped forward another inch. His throat felt fit to tear, he'd never taken anyone else's cock save Phantom's and he was gasping desperately for breath through his nose, trying to get better acquainted with the large length around him. His eyes trained on the wispy raven hair on Afrien's crotch, watered again when Phantom pounded into him, making his whole body rock and suddenly Afrien was pushing inside him too, reaching so deep into his throat that Freud feared he might never breathe right again.

He squirmed, but Phantom's hands tightened around him, and Afrien stroked his cheeks gently. 'Be still, little one. You will be alright.' The golden eyes were soft, proud, _smiling_, and Freud found himself relaxing at the sight rather than his mellow words of encouragement.

Afrien purred, and it was a low, gentle rumble of a sound, welling up from deep within his lungs and it made Freud whimper with the sheer animalistic nature of it. Afrien was deliciously heavy and his precome was gathering in the bowl beneath his tongue, salty and fiercely bitter compared to Phantom's more delicate taste. Then he felt Afrien start moving, gently drawing out from his throat and he squirmed as his throat muscles contracted too quickly, still determinedly licking the hardened shaft and trying to give Afrien as much pleasure as he could possibly give.

Freud took his chance and raked his teeth sideways along his shaft, applying enough pressure as Afrien pulled out to comb lines of sharp pleasure along his length. Afrien hissed and the fierce throbbing of his cock told Freud that he liked it. He licked eagerly, trying to coax more precome from the bulbuous head perched on his lower lip, suckling gently and lovingly at the rounded flare, darting his tongue in the crease of his foreskin.

His hands were being disentangled from Phantom's and he looked sideways to see Afrien, repositioning Phantom's hands on his nipples. Phantom latched on and immediately began twisting and kneading the delicate little nubs, his eyes taking on a hungry sheen as he watched Freud writhe and squirm and arch into his hands. Afrien chuckled and Freud registered the muscles on Afrien's arm tighten as he thrust his fingers mercilessly against Phantom, in turn making Phantom yelp and slam into Freud so deep that he ended up hunched over Freud's heaving torso.

Over the howl that ripped from his lips, Freud faintly heard Afrien's low chuckle like the thunder of a the first storm in spring, mingling with Phantom's heady groans. Freud imagined Afrien's elegant fingers buried to the knuckle in Phantom's ass, his palm cupping the crack of his ass and pulling Phantom closer to Freud, and it might as well have been Afrien, still fucking Freud but by using Phantom and the thought made another trickle of precome gather on his heaving midriff.

Afrien's cock was slowly pushing back into his mouth. Freud tried to hold steady so he wouldn't bite down, tried to lick and pleasure Afrien but everything was a blur, he couldn't focus enough to relax his throat or to stop from gagging as his enormous length prodded at the back of his throat.

'Sweet little one…' Afrien smiled down at him, pulled out, and rested his cock on Freud's cheek. Freud turned his nose towards the musky scent and groaned as he felt the hardness against his face. 'Tell me how much you love it.'

'Af… rien…'

'What do you like, hmm?'

Freud opened his eyes just in time to catch the dribble of precome on his tongue and reached out to clasp Afrien's balls in his hands, rubbing across the skin, pressing and kneading. Afrien's eyes remained calm, studying him.

He loved the way it felt, the way it throbbed in his mouth, the way he knew it would feel like heaven shoved up his ass. Loved the way it weighed, the way it looked, the way it smelled… He loved it. He loved Afrien.

He wanted Afrien,

needed Afrien.

'I see,' smiled the tall, graceful man with the raven locks, 'I will give you what you want.'

He wasn't sure why Afrien said that. Had he actually said those words out loud? Dimly, he realised that he must have, and that Afrien must have heard him through the dazed slur that he was in, even despite his tongue and throat refusing to work properly.

The coiling tattoo on his arm glowed golden again as Afrien grasped him with his mind, and he gave in without a fight, relishing the feeling of Afrien, his presence surrounding him, overwhelming, intoxicating. Afrien had him fasten his own needy fingers around his cock and jerk himself off as he stared blearily at the magnificence that was Afrien's cock, gritting his teeth as Afrien goaded him towards the cliff of his impending orgasm. Afrien moved his hands tactlessly, abruptly, the rhythm jarring against Phantom's thrusting into his ass.

Phantom began to groan, to make heady little sounds of need as he pounded harder and harder into Freud, his breaths coming in short staccato bursts. Freud's eyes darted from Afrien's beautifully red cock, to Phantom's intoxicated expression, to Afrien's gently smiling face, letting out moans of his own. Again and again it went on, the pounding into him, the rapid and unbearable friction around his leaking cock, yet Afrien stood on the peak of that cliff, smiling calmly and telling him to wait. But he couldn't, he couldn't, not with the smells and sounds of furious sex around him like that.

When he gave in to the thought that he would pass out from the sensations, Afrien had him clench as tight as he could, and then tighter still, smiling as Freud howled his strain and Phantom howled as he shot his release into Freud's insides, coating him with hot come that was divine liquid fire on the walls of his ass.

Now that he had given in so completely he was able to register Afrien's movement like it was his own, felt the warmth upon his fingertips as Afrien — as _he_ — probed and kneaded the lump in Phantom's ass, making him shiver and shoot another load into Freud's innards. Afrien continued to thrust his fingers in and out, picking up the pace suddenly in the peak of Phantom's orgasm, fighting to slide past Phantom's tight entrance and jab quickly at his prostate and send him higher into his bliss.

Even before Phantom had even turned limp Afrien had let go of Freud, letting him fall back with a thump against the desk, and turned to pull the Master Thief out of Freud's ass with a sickening squelch. Phantom stumbled into the nearest chair, blinking the stars from his vision and Freud merely lay there, panting fiercely and barely able to register that he had come again, or that Phantom's come was trickling out of his ass.

Afrien tutted and circled around, slipping a finger into Freud's weakly throbbing entrance and doing the same thing he had did to Freud's mouth, trying to clear off any of Phantom's come as best as he could. But then he raised his finger to his mouth and licked it, tentatively, contemplating the taste of Phantom's seed.

'Not as light as my little one's, but still palatable,' Afrien held a sticky finger up to the light, studying it. Phantom shot him a glare. 'I might take it upon myself to milk you too, next time.'

'Stupid old gecko,' muttered Phantom and Afrien laughed, popping his soiled fingers into his own mouth and licking it up.

'So, my sweet, obedient, gorgeous Freud…' Afrien's eyes glinted an unearthly yellow then, like the light of a dirty moon, 'Now you are all mine to savour. The last of a long list of entrees. Like tea.'

Freud shivered.

'The lightest kind,' added Afrien, grinning widely now.

He found himself unable to move, he was so spent and he didn't think he could come any more, or if he could even stand any more arousal, he couldn't even gather the energy to protest as Afrien positioned a large and hard mass against his entrance.

He shivered again, a weak moan escaping his lips.

'Did you not want me, my Freud?' smiled Afrien. 'I will make you love to make love to me.'

_Not now, _Freud tried to form the words, but his lips were stubborn, his lips were numb, were being stretched into a gasp and then a groan as Afrien slowly and gently eased into him. Het let out a desperate whimper, the strangled note jarring against Afrien's steady breaths, as Afrien's girth pressed into him, splitting him wide and then wider still, making him scrabble faintly for a handhold on the smooth surface of his wooden desk. He vaguely registered hands hoisting his legs up to hook around Afrien's waist, registered the weight of Afrien leaning gently closer to him, his presence and lust and desire overwhelming him beyond words.

'You feel better than any of my wildest dreams, little one.'

Freud drank in the undercurrents of lust in his voice and groaned in reply. He was already so sensitive, so painfully sensitive that the gentle passing of a stray strand of Afrien's hair across his flaccid cock made him shiver. Yet he was deliriously drunk on the way Afrien's length seemed to be neverending, forcing him wider than he'd ever felt and still there was more of him, he didn't remember Afrien's length being this long in his mouth, nor this wide in his throat, or this throbbing and _hard_.

Weakly he cinched his legs around Afrien's waist, pressing Afrien closer and the man rumbled in recognition. His face was perfectly calm but his eyes were a maelstrom of embers, the desire far too blinding to look at. Freud found himself captivated at the carnal lust he saw lurking in the depths and yet Afrien was the epitome of control, never hurting or touching Freud beyond —

He howled as Afrien pulled out and thrust back in mercilessly, his length ramming firmly against his prostate and filling him so full that tears leaked from his eyes. A loud, guttural, animal-like sound reverberated from Afrien's chest as he drew back and surged back into him again, impaling him fully on his cock with each well-angled stroke.

He felt himself lifted off the table, still being split open again and again, Afrien's sinewy arm around his shoulders, pulling him face to face with the raven haired man. His eyes were lidded and slightly glazed from the exertion, holding Freud to him like a dear treasure, like he weighed nothing at all. Freud flung his arms around his neck and nuzzled into his hair, letting his eyes slide shut as he let out little gasps and mewls into Afrien's ear. He felt himself slowly melt into the sweet, mind-numbing rhythm of _in, out, in, out_ as Afrien plunged into him, felt the way Afrien's chest heaved as he drew a sharp breath just before his hardness rammed into the deepest parts of his insides.

A ridged surface pressed up against his back and he registered the smell of musty journals. Afrien gently pulled Freud away from his chest and Freud had to scrabble blindly behind him, pulling off thick volumes in barely-controlled desperation to find a proper handhold. Afrien thrust inside him again and stilled, only now letting Freud adapt as he slid a hand down to his lower back, forcing him to push his chest out as far as he could. Panting hard and his vision already forming doubles, Freud felt one of his legs slowly being lowered onto the ground and he was twisted slightly to his side, Afrien hoisting the other leg up and hooking it over his arm.

He met Afrien's eyes, again trying to plead for more of Afrien's relentless movement, for his hand around his cock, for his fingers to tease his nipples, anything, he just needed more of anything, more of everything. Afrien merely smiled, pressed a chaste kiss to his sweaty forehead, and beckoned Phantom over.

'What?' he blinked, when Phantom scowled and didn't want to move, 'I can only share him if you come over here.'

'Slimy old gecko,' muttered Phantom, but he appeared beside Freud in record speed.

Then Afrien pulled Phantom in, pressed him flush against Freud's torso, and Phantom crashed his lips together, and the taste of the Master Thief and Afrien's thickness slamming up into him again his arms tremble so hard they nearly gave way, but Phantom snaked his own arm under him and hoisted him up to support him. Phantom's tongue was along his lips, licking along his teeth and gums, tangled with his, and Freud savored every touch, leaning over to press harder against him. Freud was groaning heedlessly with the breaths he sucked in, between Afrien's ruthless thrusts, and Phantom swallowed every sound he made.

His cock was _aching_ now, he was slowly being forced back to a heady state of arousal but he welcomed it, feeling himself grow tighter with every thrust, finally gathering some resemblance of control and clenching hard on Afrien, rocking his hips as best as he could to impale himself on his hardness, to feel it throbbing inside him, to revel in Afrien's heat and the fire starting to grow in the pit of his loins.

Afrien's jaw tightened and his face twitched, minutely but just enough for Freud to see. He smiled at the raven haired man, a bleary and lopsided grin, knowing that Afrien, just like Phantom, wouldn't be able to resist the sweet tightness inside him.

'My little one, so _lewd_,' smirked Afrien, shifting his grip slightly on Freud's leg before he took a step forward and thrusted. Afrien's breaths came in sharp exhalations as he finally used all of his strength to ram his length deep into Freud, as fast and forcibly as he could. Freud threw his head back, moaning and gasping anew. If Afrien felt like he had been splitting Freud open before, he now felt like he was skewering him, starting right from between his legs, what with the jolts of pleasure that shot up into his head like that.

Phantom fastened his lips around Freud's neck and sucked, just shy of the raw and tender spot that Afrien had left earlier. He fought breath back into his lungs, and with a momentous effort, craned his neck as far as it would go, an open plea for Phantom's mouth to mark him all over his skin.

'Do not,' gasped Afrien in warning, when Phantom's lip trailed over the bruise that Afrien had left there. Freud shivered at the raw lust in his voice, a low hoarse rumble.

Phantom made a noncommittal sound but obliged anyway, shifting away from the welt and fastening his teeth elsewhere, 'Stupid gecko —'

His words melted into a yelp as Afrien pulled him in closer with his free hand. Freud briefly felt their erections touching before Afrien grasped them both in his grip, jerking them both off together in one hand. Phantom's length was hard, rutting against his, smearing their precome together as Afrien spared them no chance to adapt and began stroking with fierce, long strokes, the speed unyielding and almost too fast.

It felt impossible that he could stiffen even more, but he did, in Afrien's relentless grip, his midriff quivering as he fought for release, drawing pleasure from the electrifying jolts of Afrien's length pressing against his prostate. The desperate moans to his side sent shivers up his spine and a glance at Phantom's face, eyes narrowed and mouth hanging open, was enough to tell him that he was enjoying it too.

The grip around both their cocks tightened even further and Afrien moaned then, and it was so low that Freud might have missed it, mistook it for the Master Thief's. He clenched down harder on Afrien, to feel him sliding in and out of him faster and harder, chasing his orgasm through the stabbing jolts of pleasure, but what started off as a tight coil at the base of his spine never bloomed the same way it did earlier.

He groaned with frustration. Afrien's mental hold was around his dick again, making him feel pleasure but not letting him react to it, while another ruthless squeeze around their shafts had Phantom climaxing with a shudder, his come painting hot lines across Freud's torso. He watched helplessly as Afrien pulled his sticky hand away to wrap around his waist, and he was lifted from the shelf and laid flat against the cold floor.

Afrien arched over him, one arm behind his back and the other at his midriff, holding him so he lay on his side with his knee still hooked around Afrien's elbow. He felt Afrien's hair brush across his face, moving in time to his thrusts and ran his thumb tenderly across Afrien's cheek. At the touch, whatever dark and primal glint lurked in Afrien's eyes flared to life, and he was growling under his breath as he pounded into Freud, making him shudder almost incessantly.

'Afrien,' he heard it more than said it, a moan of lust as dark as onyx.

'Freud.'

The reply sounded as enrapturing as when he first heard it leave Afrien's lips, even more enrapturing when he realised that it was the sound Afrien made as he came, fiercely and finally, pressed into him as deep as he would go. Afrien's come seemed to coat every inch of Freud's insides and the heat, so impossibly searing, ripped through him like wildfire and culminated as the last bit of come he could possibly give, coupled with a weak and halting groan that punctuated Afrien's breaths. Afrien grew harder still, releasing another load and Freud felt warmth trickle out his ass, shivered at the faraway look in Afrien's eyes, the knowledge that he was the only one that Afrien wanted branding itself into his mind.

Afrien let out a quiet groan and closed his eyes, slowly and tiredly pulling out. He looked sated at last, as if he had given Freud the entirety of all he had always dreamed of giving, and had finally managed to do so. A hand reached around his shoulder and guided him back down to the ground, and Phantom came into view, leaning in and planting a single tender kiss to his lips.

'Four times,' the blonde murmured against Freud's lips, an implicit concession to Afrien's prowess.

Afrien smiled, still hovering over Freud. 'Definitely everything.'

'If he refuses to come when I fuck him, I'm blaming you —'

'The lot which determines the quality of my endowment is not mine to decide, little bandit.'

'I'm the Master Thief, not a lowly bandit!'

'Whatever you may be, I only let you off because Freud made it his choice to love you,' Afrien looked meaningfully over at Phantom.

Phantom huffed. 'Well Freud isn't _yours_, so there—'

'Afrien, Phantom,' he gasped, barely able to form the words, the delirious haze clouded his mind so. 'I love you both the same.'

They both had claims on exactly half of him. There was no way he could give either one of them more than the other, no way to give them any more at all.

'I didn't know you were so jealous of Phantom,' Freud whispered, smiling then.

'You would be if your spirit partner was in love with —'

'Such a handsome man? Such an overwhelming presence?' grinned Phantom.

'A worthy adversary,' Freud translated, smiling.

Afrien chuckled. 'He _is_ good for you, little one.'

'I'm just here, you know,' huffed Phantom.

'I know, Afrien.'


	4. Chapter 4

Something touches his cheek and he jolts upright in his chair. The sun is setting and casting golden rays on his parchments and the outstretched finger in his vision.

Phantom is on the other end of it and peering curiously at him.

'Oh, what kind of calamity has fallen upon us today?' he snickers, 'The great and mighty scholar falling asleep at his desk for _hours_ —'

'Let him rest if he needs to,' comes a rumble from the balcony. The deep golden irises set in a long, dragonish muzzle stare back at them in amusement. 'You know how rarely he sleeps.'

'Pfft. He needs dinner. And now it's dinnertime, so I've taken the time off my busy schedule to act as his personal chauffeur.'

Freud rubs his eyes and shifts to pull himself out of the chair when he realises an uncomfortable hardness in his jeans.

'What're you working on that's boring enough to send _you_, of all people, to sleep?' mutters Phantom, quickly leafing through the papers and journals, going through one book and then the next and setting them haphazardly down again.

Freud sighs at the way his table is turning into a warzone when he notices Afrien's eyes narrow slightly, the dragon equivalent of a slight scowl.

He tears his eyes away. 'Transfiguration potions.'

'Boring,' mutters Phantom, carelessly dropping the papers back onto the table.

'Because you don't need it,' grumbles Freud, slightly startled at the way his heart's suddenly racing.

Afrien's golden eyes never leave him, he can feel them boring into him even from way across the room.

'Do not disturb my little one if he does not feel like eating,' Afrien shifts his gaze briefly to Phantom. 'Those transfiguration potions may come in handy some day.'

'Of course,' drawls Phantom, oblivious to the way Freud is stiffened at his desk, tongue too numb for words. 'Like for turning you human.' Smugly and pleased at his comeback, he saunters out the room. 'You coming, Freud?'

'Y-yeah,' Freud manages to reply.

Is that dampness gathering in the fabric of his briefs?

_I will be waiting, little one, _purrs Afrien, the thought echoing in his mind, meant solely for him. _My little one, so deliciously lewd._

_What did you do?_ Freud gasps, shifting uncomfortably where he stands.

_Nothing much. _Afrien chuckles and Freud can hear the smirk in his voice as plainly as day. _Since we share thoughts, after all, I just decided to attempt to share just a little bit more. Like a dream, for example._

_You perverted old gecko._

Afrien's lips part in a grin. _Ah, but I am not the one with an uncomfortable hard-on, little one. Perhaps you should skip dinner and work on those potions, have a _dragon_ help you with your little problem._

Freud turns and leaves so he can escape Afrien's piercing gaze, dimly wondering if he will ever be able to ride Afrien without turning hard ever again.


End file.
